


Cold Moon

by dandelionpower, DrakkHammer



Category: Being Human, The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders is in denial, Angst, Britchell, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Child Abuse, Mitchell is in love, not my boyfriend...more like a flatmate with benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionpower/pseuds/dandelionpower, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike’s eyes were blazing. “You think that this vampire is a lark? A kink you can try out to see if you like it? Don’t you fucking get it--this man is in love with you! He’s not playing. He’s fucking quoting you love poetry. I don’t know jackshit about vampires, but I’m positive they don’t go around spouting Browning unless they’re pretty goddamn serious.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Moon

**Author's Note:**

> It is the first time we write with a co-author so it was an experiment. I was writing a part and she was continuing where I had left. We had no idea where it was going or what the other would write. This is the result of that experimentation. It's probably not the last thing we write together so please, let us know what you think about it!! Hope you guys will like it!!
> 
>  
> 
> THANKS TO OUR BETA: ceallaig1 <3

"Hi, this is Mitchell's phone, leave a message." 

 

Anders cursed, turned off the phone and threw it on his bed without leaving a message. He already left three messages; a fourth would be a little abusive really, and these three messages didn't include the five texts he sent before. He started pacing in his bedroom, massaging his temples nervously; he could feel an upcoming headache, like every time he was worried. Why would he be so concerned about where Mitchell was and what he was doing? He was a grown-up. He was more than 100 years old, that's old enough to be considered an adult.

Anders decided that drinking was the best idea to calm his nerves. He poured himself a generous glass of vodka and fell on the sofa. 

 

Mitchell is a vampire, Anders reminded himself, he's strong, clever and scary enough to get out of trouble by himself if he needs it. And that was not like they were actual boyfriends… they were more like… flatmates with benefits, no strings attached. They were just ordinary flatmates. They were living together for one month and Mitchell had not had the time to buy a bed of his own and Anders couldn't let him sleep on the couch, it was not very comfortable. It was the only reason why they were sharing the blonde's bed. Also, Anders had read in a medical magazine that it was not healthy for a man to go too long without sex, and there was no proof that vampires couldn't have prostate cancer. Anders was just happy to give his body to Mitchell every night and help him stay healthy this way. That was just Anders being a Good Samaritan. Deep down, Anders was worried about his "friend" but he would never admit it to anyone, especially not to himself. But it had been two days since the god had heard from Mitchell, and he didn’t know what to do.

 

...........................................

 

Mitchell heard his phone ring but he ignored it. He finished his beer and ordered another one. His body didn’t crave alcohol but he couldn’t give it what it was demanding. He was in freaking Auckland freaking New Zealand of all places. The other end of the world from Bristol and everything he knew. He dragged his fingers through his hair. What the hell had he been thinking to just jump on board and run away with that blue eyed Kiwi? He could get his end away anyplace, it didn’t have to be on the other side of the planet.  
Back home he could have found a way to get what he needed. He was better now. He didn’t have to kill. He could go to a goth club or find some bird with a need that he could scratch and then take what he needed. He’d been clean for so long but it was hard and some days it was even harder. For some reason full moons always increased the need and the moon was going to be full tonight. 

He looked around as if he expected the dim interior of the bar to have answers. Did Auckland even have an underground goth club? Somehow he couldn’t imagine black-tressed fangbangers lurking in the shadows like they did back home. The city was so clean that it was creepy. He was used to everything being centuries old and all this new shiny architecture got on his nerves. He took another swig of beer and put the bottle down too hard. Shit, when he was like this everything got on his nerves.  
He flagged the bartender down and ordered another beer. Maybe if he got drunk the need wouldn’t bother him so much. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. As his mother used to say, if pigs could fly there would be pork in the trees. He drained his fourth beer and tried to order another one. The barkeeper shook his head and walked away. Well, he’d just have to go to another bar. And then maybe another…

Mitchell paid the bill and got out of the pub. He stopped outside, on the sidewalk, leaned against the brick wall and lit a cigarette. This was going to be a long night. He took a puff of tobacco and rested his head back on the wall, breathing out the smoke through his teeth in a long sigh. What was keeping him here, on the other side of the world? He had nothing here, all was foreign to him…but he had Anders, sexy, funny, cocky Anders. But Anders had made clear in their last conversation that Mitchell was nothing more for him than casual sex and the one paying half the rent. 

Mitchell knew that Anders didn't intend to be mean; he was just his usual independent self. The vampire should have expected it, coming from Anders, but he naively thought that the soft kisses in the morning and the intimate tender caresses they exchanged during and after sex meant something for the Norse god. Apparently not. Mitchell couldn't rely on his relationship with the blond to keep him from drinking random people dry. And tonight it was full moon, and the moon not only influenced ocean tides but increased his thirst for blood too. The vampire looked at the orange moon, which was mocking him in the sky, like the open eye of a devilish wink, challenging his self-control. He closed his eyes, trying not to think about the blood lust that was drying his throat and clenched his stomach in a particularly painful way.

"Sorry, sir ? Can I borrow your lighter, please ?" 

Mitchell snapped his eyes open and looked at the pretty young woman and her outstretched hand. He shivered, smiled to her, trying not to look too much like a predator and gave her the lighter with a trembling hand. 

She lit her cigarette and handed it back, her fingers brushing his palm and trailing along his fingers as she moved back. Her eyes met his and the lids dropped in clear invitation. Mitchell could feel his breath catch as the fire raced through his veins. He felt like a starving man standing before a feast. She looked at him, blue eyes clear and unafraid.

Blue eyes. 

There was another pair of blue eyes framed by golden hair and punctuated by the most beautiful smile and dimples he’d ever seen. He looked back at the woman. If he took her he could go home and rest and be with the owner of those blue eyes. But if he took her he could never go home again. He couldn’t go to Anders’ bed a murderer.  
His eyes went black. She looked at him and backed up a step.

The next moment she was watching his back as he ran down the street, ducked cars as he crossed and vanished into the night. Shakily she took another drag on her cigarette, crushed it out and went into the bar to call a cab. It was past time to go home.

Mitchell ran until he was at the water’s edge. He stood there on the pier, his knuckles white from gripping the railing. He looked out at the dark water the moon shimmering a silver trail across the harbor. It called to him with a siren song, beckoning him, promising him peace. He laughed without humor. When you don’t breathe you can’t drown, there is no place to find peace when you are a vampire.

He looked up at the full moon, eyes brimming with tears. His voice echoed as he threw his question over the water.

“Why?”

 

…………………………………………………….

 

"Why?" Anders wondered. Why did Mitchell say these words? Those words that had uselessly complicated everything. Anders was trying not to feel guilty about being the reason why Mitchell left. Love never should have been involved in their relationship, that wasn't the plan. But had they ever had a plan?

Anders wished that Mitchell had never fallen in love with him. The god felt unable to give what the vampire was asking from him.

"I haven't thought about blood all day long, Anders, I was just thinking about you, about how you love it when I touch you, about how I crave your love too, I just missed you, baby, I love you so much. I really think you can be the one keeping me from drinking blood, like Josie did for me a long time ago," Mitchell had said to him. He had placed a hand on the small of Anders' back and had tried to pull him closer for a tender kiss but Anders had stiffened and pushed him away, shocked by the unexpected love declaration.

Being Mitchell's sex toy ? Yes, that was something Anders could live with (and enjoy to no end), but being his boyfriend, being the one responsible for keeping him from killing, and more than that, be his life partner, responsible for Mitchell's happiness… that was too much to handle for the blond god. His brothers were right about him, he thought, he was a selfish careless prick, he could never stay with the same person for a long time, he was unable to love, unable to be loved. One day, Mitchell would have realized that he had made the wrong choice anyway. 

"Fuck !" Anders hissed when the glass slipped from his shaky hand and literally exploded on the floor in millions pieces. Hours had passed and he still had no news from Mitchell, he was so nervous and concerned that he wasn't able to properly hold a glass anymore. He didn't think before bending down on his knees and starting to pick up the pieces of broken glass with his bare hands. Without surprise, he cut his fingers. For some reasons, it was when he saw the blood that the realization hit him. Anders wished his presentiment was unfounded; of course he hadn't looked at the calendar... He ran towards the window and pulls the curtains open violently. "Shit ! " he cursed again when he saw the full moon, high in the night sky.

 

He remembered Mitchell telling him the addiction hit a peak at the full of the moon. Like the tidal pull it at first tugged and then wrenched at him--his body screaming for relief. Anders remembered that the vampire had been restless last night and when he’d gotten up to go to the bathroom he’d looked and had seen him sitting at the table, his head in his hands. He’d felt like a shit for not going to him, but he was tired and his flatmate had more than a hundred years of personal crap to work through. He’d dismissed it and gone back to bed. 

He looked at his reflection in the window. He could see through it just as everyone had always been able to see through him. He was a man of glass, transparent, cold and brittle. He rested his palm against the place where his reflection’s heart would be. It was as hard and cold as his own chest--a metaphor that was far too accurate. 

He wanted to punch that cold selfish prick, to drive him to his knees and hurt him so that he’d go away back to Asgard and leave Anders to be a real person. Instead of hitting the glass he leaned forward and rested his forehead on the glass. “Why am I so fucked up? Why can’t I love anyone?” His voice trailed off to a whisper, “Why can’t I let anyone love me?”

 

…………………………………………………….

 

The moon rose beautiful and cold and distant. Wispy clouds shrouded her, veiling her face and then swirling away to lay at her base like a gauze shawl. She was unreachable, untouchable and she never ever answered questions. 

Mitchell turned and walked from the pier, head bowed, feeling defeated. He had been an idiot to move to the other side of the world. He had no support here. Back home Annie or George would have been there for him to comfort him, make him tea and help chase away the waking nightmares. Here there was only Anders...cold, selfish, Anders. The man who didn’t love anyone except himself. 

He walked away from the water trying to avoid people. He didn’t need the torment of smelling what he couldn’t have. That was one thing about the god, he didn’t smell like food. Mitchell had no fear of ever losing control with him, not in that way. He could allow himself full rein of his emotions knowing they would never get so out of hand that he would accidentally harm his lover. It was probably the only reason the Kiwi let him get close. He’d seen Mitchell vamp out once and he’d nearly pissed himself. He might like it rough now and again, but fangs and blood play were way past anything he had any interest in trying out. The thought made the corners of the vampire’s mouth turn up just the tiniest bit. He was probably the only partner Anders ever had who could out kink him.

Mitchell had thought they were good for each other, that they were meant to be together. That month in Anders’ bed had been really amazing, in every way. It was the first time Mitchell could just gently kiss someone's skin without the urge to sink his fangs in it. He could nuzzle all over the god’s body and just appreciate the manly scent without the hunger that usually came with it. With the blond man, he was able to give and receive pleasure without second thoughts. Being with his sexy Anders finally allowed him to be a real lover, not a beast from nightmares, that only uses his body and the pleasure it could give to distract his prey, make it pliant and weak while waiting the best moment to strike. 

 

“I’m a shark,” Mitchell thought, Herrick was right, he was a predator that made the mistake to fancy himself as a bloody lamb. A stupid little lamb that could have done everything for the sweet eyes of a Norse god. Who was he trying to fool ? He never could have been Anders’ charming boyfriend -- Mitchell definitely wasn’t boyfriend material, he already knew that, and at the end, it appeared that Anders didn’t want him as such anyway. Like every time Mitchell had met someone special, he had thought, “this one is the good one, this time it’ll work.” And like every single time he thought he had found his savior, it had been a huge disappointment, but frankly with Anders, it had been worse than ever and more like a painful slap in the face. 

The vampire threw a cold laugh in the night’s air… what was his problem really, to always think that there was someone, somewhere that could save him ? He couldn’t be saved.  
Mitchell searched in his leather wallet. He was glad he had kept it; a little piece of paper with a phone number, the number of a vampire in Auckland that could provide him a safe passage to Brazil: the head quarter of the old ones. Once there he could finally be a proper vampire and they would do the dirty work for him: find human victims he could drink on without the guilt of having to choose them in the crowd. Mitchell swallowed, his mouth watering at the mere thought. 

 

………………..

 

“Mike !” Anders thought, “ Mike is good at finding things… or people.” But that wasn’t a great idea after all. First of all, Anders seriously doubted that his brother would want to help him find his flatmate who was god knows where in Auckland, at 2 AM on a Friday night. Anders seriously doubted that Mike would want to help him at all, and even if he did, Anders seriously disliked the idea that he could owe Mike something. How could he ask it anyway ? “Hello Mike ! Can you help me ? I lost my vampire ! oh yeah, by the way, I’m bi and I sleep with a vampire and now I need to find him cause he’s on a blood rage and he can kill half Auckland by tomorrow morning!”

Anders shivered. He didn’t know what was scaring him the most; the fact that Mitchell could kill people or the fact that maybe he’ll never come back home. “Bloody sentiments,” Anders cursed himself. A monster that he had rejected was running free. Nothing was more dangerous than an injured wild beast… that was exactly what Mitchell was tonight, and it was all Anders’ fault. 

Mike answered on the third ring. “What do you want?” The ice in his tone was worthy of Ty on a bad day.

Anders’ throat was dry. Asking Mike for help was always hard. This time it felt impossible. “I...uh..I…”

“Tell me what you want or fuck off,” Mike snapped. Most of the time his younger brother just annoyed him. This was one of those times.

“I need a favor--I need you to find someone.” There he’d said it. He waited for the explosion. It wasn’t long in coming.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Mike didn’t know whether to be angry or just laugh at the absurdity of the request. “Did you lose your latest bimbo?”

Something like that, Anders thought. “I lost a guy...a friend. He’s new to Auckland. He went out drinking and I can’t find him.”

Mike laughed humorlessly. “He’s an adult, he’ll find his way back.”

The blond cringed. “It’s not him that I’m worried about.”

“Well who are you worried about?” 

“The people around him.” There, he’d said it. “They could be in danger.”

“What the hell, Anders? Is he sick with something?” Mike wanted to hang up the phone but something in his brother’s voice stopped him. “How is he going to hurt the people around him?”

Anders pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the headache that was fast approaching. “You know there’s other things that are real besides the Norse gods.”

“Like what?” Mike snapped. “Enlighten me.”

“Vampires. Like vampires, Mike.” 

“Holy shit! Do you mean to tell me this friend of yours who you misplaced is a vampire?” He had Mike’s full attention.

“Kinda,” Anders said. “Yeah, he kinda is.”

“And he’s going to attack someone?” It was Mike’s turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Can they trace him back to you?”

“I don’t know,” Anders said. “Maybe. Probably.”

“Oh fuck. Just fuck.” He was already heading out the door. “Where are you?”

“Home, outside on the sidewalk.” He was starting to feel queasy on top of the headache. 

“Good. Stay there I’ll be right over.” Mike gunned the car in reverse, roaring into the street and then spinning it and taking off. He was going to kill his prick of a brother yet. They’d never convict him. Hell, they might even give him a medal.

 

Anders was standing by the curb when his brother pulled up. He was miserable and it showed. The cocky wise-ass had been replaced by a nervous man who slid in next to Mike without looking at him. That was fine with Mike. He hung his head out the window until Ullr picked up something. He felt that tingling down his spine and just knew which way to go.

“So,” Mike said, still not looking at Anders. “Where in the fuck did you find a vampire?”

“In England,” he replied softly. “In Bristol to be accurate.”

Mike’s head whipped around. “And how for fuck’s sake did a vampire from England get to Auckland?” 

Anders shrugged. “He followed me, I guess you’d say.”

Mike hung out of the window and slid the car around a corner, tail end whipping as the tires fought for traction. It fishtailed once more and then straightened out. Anders continued to hang onto the seat belt, his nails digging into the fabric.

“A vampire followed you from Bristol?” Mike was obviously struggling to keep his voice even. “Let me guess, there was alcohol involved.”

“No,” Anders almost whispered. “There was love.”

Mike whipped around to look at him and nearly sideswiped an oncoming car. “What the fuck are you saying?”

He practically threw the car into a small parking lot and twisted around to look at his younger brother. “Are you fucking telling me that you have a vampire for a lover? A MALE vampire?” His hands were fisted and he looked as if he was barely restraining himself from attacking Anders. 

His brother didn’t look at him. Anders looked out the window into the night. He didn’t want Mike to see the tears misting his eyes. He grunted, but didn’t turn when a strong hand grabbed his jacket and tried to yank him around. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, godammit! I asked you a question.” He lashed out, but Anders’ upraised forearm broke the blow. 

“You going to beat me again like you did when I was a kid?” He was chewing on his lower lip, his eyes reflecting his anger and pain. 

Mike dropped his hand and turned to glare though the windshield. “You didn’t know what you were doing. I had to do what was right and stop it before you got confused.”

Anders turned to look at him, his eyes drilling into Mike’s. “I wasn’t confused. It wasn’t about me and who I am. It was about you being a jock and not wanting a queer for a little brother.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mike protested, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. 

“It was. It was exactly like that. You told me if you ever caught me with a boy again you would kill me.” his eyes bored into Mike’s. “And then you told Dad. I still have the scars from the beating he gave me. Want to see ‘em?”

Mike’s anger turned to ashes that were bitter in his mouth. He hung his head. “I’m sorry. I was a kid and I thought you were just fooling around. You know being stupid--doing something on a dare.”

The tears were threatening to spill over. “I was a kid too and I trusted you to protect me from Dad. He gave me the worst beating I ever had. I didn’t think I was going to live through it. I pissed blood for a week.”

Mike sighed and shook his head, looking down at his lap, Anders wondered if it was from denial or guilt.

“Dad was a prick.” Mike began slowly, “ and I think that, in a way, I wasn’t better. I don’t ask you to forgive me. It’s just that I didn’t want people to mock you. I thought that if, maybe, I cut the bad habit at the root, when you were young, I could spare you the laughter, the loathing and the humiliation.” 

Anders snorted. “I’m not ashamed of my sexuality...but you still are, aren’t you?” 

“Look, not that you care, but a long time ago I realized what a prejudiced asshole I was. I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. I have no excuse other than I was still an idiot teenager with a chip on my shoulder. But I’m not the one asking for understanding here. You’re still hiding what you are.”

Anders’ lips thinned. “I said, I’m not ashamed.”

Mike raised a brow “No… sure…” he clearly didn’t believe him. “That’s why you told no one that you were with a man, that you brought back from Europe a dangerous guy as a boyfriend either…”

“I didn’t BRING him back” Anders protested, he didn’t like the way Mike was talking about Mitchell. As if Anders had found a lost animal, thought it was cute and decided to bring him home as a pet and was too stupid to realize that it was venomous. “And he’s not my boyfriend…” Anders completed weakly. 

Mike chuckled even if he didn’t intend to. “Clearly not, that’s why you called me in the middle of the night to find him. I know you, Anders Johnson. Saving human lives is not enough to convince you to stoop to ask help… especially mine.”

Anders clenched his teeth. “Wow! You always think so little of me! Ok, maybe I do care for him, it’s what you wanted to hear, isn’t it?” Anders gestured nervously in front of Mike’s face, like he was trying to erase what he just said from his brother’s mind. “Now can we please go find him before Mitchell can slaughter infants and widows?”

“So this thing has a name.” Mike commented. 

Anders’ eyes hardened with rage. He grabbed his brother jacket and hissed, detaching each syllable to make himself as clear as possible; “ John, is, not, a, thing. Don’t ever call him that again!!”

Mike back up on his seat, “Ok! Ok!“ he raised his hands in surrender and Anders let him go. He wasn’t used to seeing his brother like that. Anders was the manipulative kind, not the aggressive kind. “Let’s find out where your beloved is hiding then,” Mike said, trying to offer peace.

“He’s not my…” Anders voice trailed off, what was the point of denying anymore? Anyway, there was a good chance that they were over and that he would never see Mitchell again. The thought burned him inside like his heart was cauterized with a hot iron. When the rage of hearing Mitchell being called “a thing” has hit him, Anders had realized that both Mitchell and their relationship weren’t just “things” to him. He realized that he wanted the time they spent together to have a meaning, whatever it could be… and he had been a coward and had screwed up what they had with five words :”I don’t need your love.”

Anders nodded “yes, let’s find him” he sighed, massaging his temples, the headache was coming back. 

“Do you have something that belongs to him?” Mike asked “it could help me find him faster.” 

“You could have said it earlier! When we were still in front of my building!” Anders protested, he didn’t have anything that belonged to Mitchell with him. Anyway, in the middle of their fight, Mitchell had shoved all his things in a bag and he was gone with pretty much everything he had brought with him from Bristol, which was not much. 

“It’ll be difficult then.” Mike replied. “I must have something that can link me with him, that is his, something that he owns or something that he created or an image that represents him, without that, he’s a needle in a haystack, I can still try but I don’t know if we are going to find him at all.” 

“A pretty dangerous needle.” Anders pointed out. 

“It seems so, do you have something I can start with?” Mike asked with an annoyed voice. 

Anders smirked. “You are like a dog that needs to sniff a trail.” 

Mike snorted, “sort of, but look who’s talking? You are the one mom sent to fetch a stick!” 

“Ok, we better stop it, bickering is not going to lead us anywhere,” Anders replied, shaking his head. Mike frowned, who was this stranger that had replaced his little brother? His real brother never gave up in the middle of an argument, he always wanted to have the last word.

Anders cursed himself, he shouldn’t have drunk vodka, his mind seemed so slow. He had to think about a way to help Mike finding Mitchell, it was his first priority and he wanted it like he never wanted anything in his life. Even the red shiny Lamborghini he saw in the street the week before appeared to be such a trivial need now. Anders resumed his temple massage, “something he owns...created...an image…” Clearly he was screwed with the last one because the vampire couldn’t be captured in picture or video. 

 

 

Suddenly, Anders stopped massaging his sore head and stared at Mike blankly for a few seconds. “By ‘something he created’, can it mean ‘something he wrote?’”

“That could be a good starting point.” Mike acknowledged. 

Anders took his smart phone out of his jacket and seemed to hesitate a moment. He finally unlocked the phone, slid his forefinger a couple time on the screen and passed it on reluctantly to his brother. “These are the texts we exchanged last week,” he explained nervously. 

Mike couldn’t be sure, because it was pretty dark in the car, but he could have sworn that Anders was blushing heavily. 

It was a good thing the car was parked or Mike was pretty sure he would have crashed it. The vampire’s texted words left nothing to the imagination. He sucked in a deep breath and looked at his younger brother. 

“It looks like you’ve been having a good time.”

Anders wouldn’t look at him. “That was the whole idea.” He looked at his reflection in the car window. “You know me...always looking to get my end away.”

“Apparently with anyone handy,” Mike commented as he thumbed through the message.

“At least I didn’t fuck my best friend’s girlfriend while he was in a coma and then spread it all over Auckland when that marriage went tits-up.” He snapped his head around to glare at his brother. “You are the last one to be making judgements on who shares anyone’s bed.”

“I never said I was perfect. I just tried to do what was right. Somehow trying to do what’s right always turns to shit.”

“Tell me about it. That’s the story of my life. I was hoping that this would be a chance to do something good,” Anders replied.

Mike resisted the urge to pound his head on the steering wheel. “How in bloody hell can you make things good with a fucking vampire?”

“He’s a good person.” Anders looked out of the car window. “He really is.”

“And you’re the one being the judge of that. Asgard help us when you start vouching for anyone’s character.” 

Wincing at the slight, Anders looked over at his brother. “Yeah I’m probably not the best judge but that’s not the issue here. We need to concentrate on the issue at hand. Mitchell is running around out there unhappy and very hungry.”

Mike turned back to the texts, called forth Ullr and started to flip through them. They started out with everyday conversation, grocery lists, chores to do, but then they got...interesting. Mike stopped flipping through them and paused to read.

Mitchell: “Do u miss me? Getting home to u is all I can think about.”  
Anders: “I miss u 2. Leaving early, Dawn can handle it.”  
Mitchell: “And then I can handle u.”  
Anders: “u couldn't handle me last night what makes u think tonight will be different?”  
Mitchell: “LOL”  
Mitchell: “Because I'm going to worship u like the god u r”  
Anders: “You already had me at ‘I’m going to worship u’ I'm getting hard. I can hardly wait until I'm home.”  
Mitchell: “I'm already hard. I want to kiss every inch of your golden body”  
Mitchell: “I'm going to lay U back and tell U how beautiful U are”  
Mitchell: “I want to write poetry to you and read it curled up next to you after we make love”  
Mitchell: “YR eyes are ocean blue and when u look at me I feel like I'm drowning”  
Mitchell: “YR mouth was made for kissing and when u smile those gorgeous dimples make me want to keep u smiling forever”  
Anders: “U have a way to go to beat Byron”  
Mitchell: “Shut up you egg. I'm making love to U”  
Anders: “kk go 4 it.”  
Mitchell: “Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed”  
Mitchell: “And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright”  
Mitchell: “Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light”  
Mitchell: “Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed”  
Mitchell: “And love is fire. And when I say at need”  
Anders: “Shelley?”  
Mitchell: “Liz Browning”  
Anders: “Mmm I can hardly wait to fuck you.”  
Mitchell: “UR a deathless romantic”  
Anders: “I don’t need poetry when I have your cock inside me.”  
Anders: “Sonnets can’t compare to the feeling I get when I cum in you.  
Anders: “I want to fuck u…..

 

The phone was wrenched out of Mike’s hand. Anders held it possessively blushing furiously at what his older brother had read. “Those are private messages, you nosey prick!”

Mike looked at Anders feeling older than his years. He could have done a better job raising him, but he wasn’t old enough. He was busy trying to stay alive himself and there hasn’t been much time or emotion to spend on any of his brothers. Somewhere along the line Anders’ emotional growth had been stunted. He’s spent the last thirteen years since he’d turned 21 screwing his way through every available women in Auckland. He would have said his brother was merely branching out except that this was no one night stand, no vapid blond bimbo. This was a whole different ballgame and he wondered if Anders realized that the ante had been upped and that the rules had changed. 

He turned to look at Anders. “How dangerous is Mitchell?”

“To me, not at all.” He looked away from Mike back to the phone he was still holding. “To others, I have no idea.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“I never gave it any thought, okay? There didn’t seem to be any risk.”

“So you brought your undead boyfriend to New Zealand because you’re horny?” He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel. “Do you ever--EVER think with anything besides your dick? At what point do you grow up and become responsible?”

“At the point I decide I want to be like you and try to run every one's life because you’ve done such a great fucking job with your own. This is just something I was trying out, okay?”

Mike’s eyes were blazing. “You think that this vampire is a lark? A kink you can try out to see if you like it? Don’t you fucking get it--this man is in love with you! He’s not playing. He’s fucking quoting you love poetry. I don’t know jackshit about vampires, but I’m positive they don’t go around spouting Browning unless they’re pretty goddamn serious.” 

He twisted so that he could look at Anders, his lips thinned into a hard line. “Why exactly is Mitchell out here running around instead of warming your bed?”

Anders shrugged.

Mike grabbed his jacket and shook him. “Fucking tell me you little prick. What did you say to him?”

The god gave him a dirty look and straightened his suit coat. “I just told him the truth, that it was too early to think of us as a couple, or even a relationship.”

“Oh fucking great. He comes to the other side of the planet only to be told that he’s your bed toy. He’s in love with you and you blow him off. Shit, if I was him I’d have wrung your sorry neck on the spot. So now he’s in a city he doesn’t know, feeling hopeless and alone. Why didn’t you just wind him up a little more while you were at it? Do you have any feelings for Mitchell at all?” In spite of the fact that he was talking about a vampire he was starting to feel sorry for the bloke. Anders had the innate ability to screw over anyone who was stupid enough to care about him and had made no exceptions for a dangerous supernatural. 

“Of course I have feelings for him?” Anders snapped back. “He’s gorgeous.”

“I mean feelings not connected to your dick!” 

Anders squirmed as if he were suddenly very uncomfortable. “Yeah...yeah I care about him. I thought it was all about sex, but with him gone I’m really worried. I...I don’t know what I’d do if he left.”

Mike nodded curtly. “That’s better. It helps me to hunt him to have you really want to find him.” He rolled the window down and leaned out. He looked as though he were listening, but something deeper was tugging at him. He found the direction of the strongest pull and started the car. 

“Let’s go get him.”

 

……………………………………

 

Mitchell lit his sixth cigarette: tobacco addiction, blood addiction… same game isn’t it? You just cannot control yourself. At least he didn’t have to kill anyone for a smoke. 

He was staring at the piece of paper in his shaky hand for a long time, smoking cigarette after cigarette, trying to forget the thirst that put his stomach and throat in the wringer. He hadn’t call the number yet, he wanted to leave Auckland, he wanted to drink blood, but not from people here, but something was keeping him back from taking his phone and making the move for good. The blood lust was nearly uncontrollable by now and he was just glad that there was nobody around. 

He was planning on smoking a seventh cigarette but his pack was empty. He remembered that he had some extra paper and a box of tobacco in the bag he was carrying with him, with all his stuff he had thrown in when he had left Anders apartment in a hurry, angry and hurt. 

Kneeling on the ground and searching in his bag for the tobacco, he didn’t notice that something that had been hidden between two t-shirts, had fallen on the ground next to his bag. 

He was rolling his new cigarette when he finally noticed what seemed to be a white cardboard square on the asphalt. 

He leaned down to pick it up and his heart jumped in his chest when he look at the back and realized it was a photo of Anders. Suddenly, Mitchell’s need for another cigarette was completely forgotten.

 

Two weeks ago, Mitchell was searching for one of his shoes in Anders’ bedroom and he had found a box under his bed; a box full of sex toys, handcuffs, lingerie and other things like that. Mitchell didn’t feel especially offended, he knew that Anders used to be a huge womanizer. As long as now they were exclusive, Mitchell didn’t mind Anders’ past, his own past wasn’t all flowers and rainbows and full of healthy relationships either. In that box there was a Polaroid that Anders had probably bought to snap sexy pictures of his conquests. 

Anders was reading a gossip magazine in the kitchen leaned under the counter, flipping the pages distractedly and looking at the TV news now and then. Mitchell tiptoed in the room, the camera hidden behind his back, and took two seconds to appraise Anders' beauty. He was wearing a grey shirt with a couple undone buttons that showed a glimpse of his gorgeous, eatable, manly chest. Mitchell loved when Anders was wearing grey clothes, it made his eyes look paler and gentler. Anders wasn’t the first man Mitchell had slept with. But before he met the blond god, for Mitchell, there was two types or men: the ones that were decent enough he could consider shagging and there were the others… but it had never been about beauty, or love. 

Beauty was about seeing through the other person’s soul, seeing a breathtaking light coming out of them, a light that warmed your heart and started a fire in your stomach. The vampire was convinced that Anders didn’t really need to use Bragi to bewitch anyone. Bragi's powers were useless on a vampire and Mitchell had fallen under Anders' spell anyway. In Mitchell’s eyes, his lover was truly beautiful. Mitchell wrapped a arm around Anders waist and pulled the god's back against his front..

The blond whimpered softly at the sudden intrusion of his personal space and Mitchell smiled contently when the swell of Anders perfect little round ass pressed against his crotch. The vampire leaned down a bit to the blonde's ear. “You’re sexy”, he whispered before pressing a kiss on the back of his neck, he smiled against the skin when he felt Anders' shivers. “And I’m going to immortalize this beauty of yours,” Mitchell added. 

Anders turned around to look at him, “What are you up to? What do you mean ‘immortalize?’” he asked him, trying not to freak out, he didn’t want Mitchell to turn him into a vampire. 

But it wasn’t about Mitchell himself being frozen like a photograph forever or about Anders’ mortal condition and his ephemeral beauty. It was just the silly human need Mitchell had to take a picture of the man he was slowly falling in love with, so he could look at that image when his lover wasn’t there with him. 

The vampire took the Polaroid from behind his back and Anders relaxed, leaning back against the counter. “Where did you find it?” Anders asked. 

“Under your bed, in a box filled with several interesting things” 

Anders rolled his eyes. 

Mitchell lifted the camera in front of Anders' face, “Now I want you to pose for me baby!” 

Anders sighed and shook his head. 

“Anders! You’re no fun!” Mitchell whined. 

“That’s not fair, I can’t even take revenge afterward. I can’t take a picture of you,” Anders objected. 

“Please?” Mitchell insisted. 

“Okay…” Anders replied and he pulled an ugly duck face and arched his back to show his behind like some chicks taking selfies in a nightclub. 

“Ah come on! Be a little bit serious for once?” his lover pleaded. 

“Ohh sorry! You wanted to take a random shot of me, I didn’t understand it was serious matter here!”

“If you won’t let me do this I understand.” Mitchell sighed. 

“Photoshoot duties are not included in my contract.” Anders argued. He was about to go away but all of a sudden, Mitchell put a hand on the back of Anders’ neck and dragged him closer for a rough kiss. Anders moaned at the surprise but he melted in the kiss almost immediately as it became deep and loving. Mitchell licked his way tenderly into the god’s mouth, making him feel overwhelmed by the warmth and the sweet wetness of the kiss. 

Then Mitchell released him and Anders relaxed back against the kitchen counter, looking at the vampire with a little smirk. Mitchell took the opportunity to snap a picture without a warning. 

“Hey! You tricked me, you bastard!” Anders complained.

Mitchell chuckled and took the picture that just came out of the Polaroid. The vampire stayed speechless for a moment when he looked at the picture, “Wow, that’s exactly what I wanted, you’re beautiful Anders.” Anders rested his chin on the vampire’s shoulder to look at his photo. “Humm yep, I’m not bad,” he commented. On the picture, the god’s lips were still sensually swollen by the kiss and there was this sparkle in those pale blue eyes, something between laughter, sass and fondness -- something that Mitchell had mistaken for love too many times.

 

Yes, Anders was stunning in this photo and it tore Mitchell's heart apart to look at it now that they were over. It was painful. His anger toward Anders for rejecting him was painful, as was his anger toward himself for being so naive, but he also grieved over the loss of what they could have been if Anders had loved him back. Above all, it was the grief of losing Anders himself that hurt the most. 

Mitchell lifted the picture to his lips and kissed Anders' face, “Goodbye babe,” he whispered softly. He took his lighter from his pocket, lit it and brought the flames close to the photo. At the last moment he hesitated. He wasn’t able to make the move and set fire to it. He stayed there a long time, with the photo in his left hand and the lighter in his right hand, staring stupidly at Anders’ manly features, unable to turn them into ashes. He let out a frustrated groan, turned the lighter off, rumpled the photo in his hand and shoved it in his pocket. 

 

He took a deep breath, turned his phone on and pressed the number of the Old One’s contact in Auckland. After the fifth ring, Mitchell was about to give up but a deep voice answered a guttural “Yiss, who’s speaking?” with a strong kiwi accent. 

“John Mitchell ninety-one,” Mitchell simply answered. 

There was a mocking laugh “ Hi Mitchell 91, you’re not from here are you? What do you want boy?” 

“Who’s talking? Identify yourself and then maybe I’ll tell you what I want,” Mitchell replied, a bit more aggressively than he intended to be; he had learned to never trust other vampires. 

This was a code between vampires when they had to communicate by phone with a vampire they never met before. To be sure they were talking of one of their kind, they gave their name and then the number of years since they had been turned. 

There was a long silence on the line but the other finally answered. “Charles McKenner 186”

Mitchell clenched his teeth, aware that if he did that, there was no way back, no way back to Anders’ arms.

“He will be safer and happier without me…he doesn’t want me anyway” Mitchell told himself with bitterness. 

“I want to talk to someone who can help me rejoin the Old Ones…” 

“Haha! Kiwi chicks don’t taste good enough for a fancy European?” McKenner laughed.

“I have personal reasons to leave New Zealand that I will not share with you, can you help me get to Brazil or not?” Mitchell growled.

“Calm down boy! I am the man you are looking for! We should meet at my place so we can talk about it and set things for your fake passport. I can pick you up. Where are you?” the vampire asked him. 

Mitchell still didn’t trust him but he had no real choice. “At the corner of Quay Street and Lower Hobson Street, near the maritime museum.” 

The other didn’t answer and rang off but Mitchell knew he had understood everything. 

 

...................................................

Mike was alternately speeding and skidding to a stop. Any cop following would surely have thought he was under the influence. Anders looked at his brother’s intensity and thought if they got stopped the shit was going to hit the fan. Ullr was the one who was driving. Mike wasn’t home right now--leave a message at the beep. 

Ullr spotted his quarry ahead, headed for a park bench. A tall thin man was standing up and apparently greeting him. No that was _not_ right! This was HIS prey--his quarry! He rammed down the accelerator and the car shot forward. Both men were caught in the headlights as the vehicle roared toward them. They stood frozen for a heartbeat as the car braked hard, slid sideways and came to a stop.

The man who Mitchell had approached vanished as quickly as if he had teleported, leaving the vampire standing alone looking both scared and pissed.

Ullr got out of the car and headed toward him, Mitchell turned to face him fully vamped out, eyes black and fangs drawn. Before anything could happen, Anders threw himself between them. It was probably the bravest thing he’d ever done, but he didn’t feel brave...he felt like he was about to piss himself. All he knew was that he had to keep his boyfriend from killing his brother.

“Enough!” he yelled. He straight-armed Mitchell, knocking him backwards a step. The vampire snarled and grabbed Anders’ arm, dragging him forward toward those sharp fangs. 

Ullr, realizing he was in danger, vanished leaving Mike to stare into those bottomless black eyes in terror and confusion. Where had this monster come from and why was Anders fighting him?

Anders pounded ineffectually against the vampire’s grip. He started calling Mitchell’s name, his voice rising to a scream as he was lifted off his feet as if he weighed nothing. 

“Mitchell! Mitchell for god’s sake it’s me--it’s Anders! For fuck’s sake let me go!” In another second he was going to start screaming like a little girl and knew that would be the last sound he would ever make.

Mike lunged forward and hit the vampire hard and low. He was strong with muscles developed as a carpenter and the slender Irishman went down under his assault. Mitchell twisted, grabbed him with his other hand and hissed in rage and pain...this one would be first. He opened his mouth for a killing bite.

Anders’ fist made contact with Mitchell’s cheekbone, the skin splitting under his knuckles. “Mitchell, cut it the fuck out!!!”

The black in the vampire’s eyes vanished. He shut his mouth, fangs retracting and looked at the god, finally actually seeing him. He blinked once then let both of them go, scooting across the pavement in a desperate attempt to get far away from the brothers. He was making a sobbing keening sound that made Anders’ skin crawl. It was pain vocalized and it was heartbreaking. 

When the vampire slammed into the bench with his back, he struggled to rise, his jacket snagging on the lower support. He heaved and bolts popped, but held giving Anders time to reach him. Without even thinking he threw himself on his knees and grabbed Mitchell, pulling him close. 

They were both saying “I’m sorry” at the same time as they struggled to hold one another. Mike looked over at them and made a face. 

“Fucking idiots.” He straightened his jacket, staring ruefully at a tear in the pocket. Resisting the urge to go over and kick them both into next week, he stood quietly shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He’d done what he was asked and now he was bruised and his jacket was torn. It was typical of Anders to get him into something that hurt. With any luck the fucking vampire would eat Anders and put an end to all their misery. 

He watched them for a moment more. Shit, the little fuck might actually be in love. That would be a first. He was the one who gave nothing to no one and suffered no slights to his over-blown ego and yet here he was groveling on the sidewalk begging forgiveness from this creature. Would wonders never fucking cease? And the vampire was crying, his tears reflecting in the street light. One minute he’s ready to rip throats and the next he is weeping and begging forgiveness. He looked at Mitchell and heaved a sigh. The vampire might just be more human than his brother was. Mike went back to the car and sat down, wishing he had a drink. 

 

Mitchell was sobbing, Anders was close, his face twisted and pale. They sat on the sidewalk holding each other as if their combined presence was all that was keeping either of them above water. 

“We’re arseholes,” Mitchell whispered.

Anders nodded. “I was born one, what’s your excuse?” He hiccuped slightly, failing at his attempt to sound cheeky.

Mitchell buried his face deep in the god’s neck, close to where the killing bite would have struck. His voice was muffled by flesh and fabric. “I’m a vampire...it’s a given.”

He straightened up and pressed a gentle kiss to Anders’ forehead. “If I can ever get that guy to talk to me again, I’m going to a place where I won’t be able to hurt you. I have to go. You know I do.”

Anders turned his face toward Mitchell, his blue eyes dark with pain and worry. “The only thing that I know is that you have to come home. We’ll work this out. I’ve been an asshole for 34 years. It’s time for me to stop. I don’t know how good I will be at this, but I really want us to try. I don’t want to lose you just because I’m a selfish bastard.”

Mitchell looked at him seeing more than Anders would be comfortable giving away. Gently he ran his thumb down the contours of the god’s cheek. “Yes you are a selfish bastard and if I go home with you I’ll continue to be your sex toy. I don’t have much self esteem, but I’d like to keep the little I have left. I should never have come here.”

“I’m the one who asked you to come. I’m the one who made promises I didn’t keep.” Anders was kneeling on the pavement ignoring the bite of the cement as it dug into his knees. It felt like penance, something for which he was long overdue. “I convinced you that I was going to be a good partner. I’m good at lying. Ask my brother, he’ll tell you.” 

The look in the vampire’s eyes was affirmation. 

“I promise the world." Anders continued. "I’ve been blaming mum and dad for my being like this, but I’m just like my dad. Only I shoot through emotionally. I always dump them before they can dump me.”

Mitchell started to say something, a look of sympathy on his face. Anders shook his head. “No more pity for poor little Anders. No more telling me you understand. You need to stop taking shit from me and I need to stop giving it to you. If we don’t reach some kind of understanding…” He didn’t know where to go with it and just trailed off. 

“Please Mitchell,” Anders begged when he found his voice again, “you’re my last chance to prove that I'm not complete asshole – to prove there is something good in me.” Anders reached for the vampire cheek but hesitated half way and his hand fell weakly on his side. 

Was he still allowed to touch that beautiful man? Anders wanted to touch him so bad; Mitchell could have been his if he hadn’t hurt him. But he did. And now, the blond god would give anything to have a second chance.

The vampire was expressionless and Anders was internally praying all the gods he knew that his lover’s decision to leave wasn’t a final one. Nobody had ever loved Anders, except this vampire, this incredible, generous, caring and kind gorgeous man. There was no way the god could let him go.

“I know I deserve the pain I’m feeling right now but…” Anders began, but he choked in a sob as the tears began to roll on his cheeks.

Mitchell eyes widened. He was already a bit shocked that his lover was kneeling before him, begging for his return, but the tears… that was unexpected. Anders had always protected himself behind a shield of sass, cockiness and dirty jokes. This openly vulnerable man wasn’t the Anders he knew. 

“Do you still love me?” Anders asked without thinking, he hadn’t meant to ask it like that, but the question crossed his lips anyway. His soul had the urge to know. 

Mitchell looked down into Anders’ eyes. The god looked like a punished child who worries if his parents still love him. 

Mitchell sighed sadly and opened his mouth to answer but Anders cut him straight away. “NO! Please, don’t answer. I know it’s too late for me to unsay what I just asked, but this is what we are going to do: I’ll ask it again, if your answer is no, please, just shake your head okay!? I don’t want to hear this word coming out of your mouth. I don’t want to hear it…I just can’t.” Anders’ vision blurred and the tears made his handsome face glow under the city’s street lights. 

He took a long shaky breath, “Do you still love me John?” He waited for the final answer, his eyes shining with a hope he knew we had no right to have. 

Mitchell looked at him, any doubts that he’d had about his feelings for Anders were washed away by the god’s tears. He knew that Anders had never knelt on a sidewalk to anyone, let alone begged them for another chance. He was stripped bare, flayed to the bone—his heart and soul naked in front of the Irishman offering his dignity up as a sacrifice. 

Mitchell gathered him into his arms and kissed away the tears. “I love you. I love you, Anders. I’ve loved you since the second time we were together. I wanted to hold you in my arms and say it over and over—I just didn’t realize it would be on a cold sidewalk in the middle of the night.” 

Anders sniffled once and tried to smile. “Yeah, my knees are killing me and my ass is cold.”

The vampire frowned. “I think you probably wrecked your pants.”

“Fuck the pants. I’m more concerned with you.” He stood and extended his hand. Mitchell took it and rose with the grace of a cat. He stood looking at Anders. Why did love have to be so hard? It seemed that the more someone needed it, the more they fought against it. For him it came naturally, for others it was a terrifying commitment. He just didn’t understand why three little words changed things so much for some people. 

He reached up and cupped Anders’ face in his palm, tracing the god’s lips with his thumb. “I love you, Anders Johnson. I’m not asking for a commitment, or undying loyalty. I just need you not to panic if I slip up and say it once in a while.”

“I’d like to think I’m done being an idiot and that you can say it all you want.” He looked up, his blue eyes, dark with shadow. “I don’t know if I can say it back yet or not.”

The vampire smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’m the sappy one here. I know that if you say it, you’ll mean it and not just be saying it because you think you should or because you don’t want me to leave.” 

“I really don’t want you to leave, Mitchell, are you coming home with me? Our home, in our bed, when I’ll can take care of you and make you forget the blood. Please?” 

“It’s full moon and all I could think about earlier was blood, then I found this…” Mitchell took the photo in his pocket and handed it to his lover. 

Anders unfolded it and looked back at the vampire. “Why? I don’t understand.” 

Mitchell smiled fondly, he put a hand on the back of Anders’ neck and played gently with the soft short hair. 

“You my love! Only you! I think you are the cure. I’m still thirsty but I don’t want to kill everyone a kilometer around. I can think about something besides blood, I can think about your skin under my hands, your lips, your…” 

Anders pushed him playfully on the chest. “Stop it or I’ll grow hard and if we want to get home, we still have to face my older brother.” The god took a worried look under his shoulder and saw that Mike was still waiting impatiently in his car. 

 

Seeing that Anders had finally decided to acknowledge his existence he lowered the passenger window and leaned over. “If you two are done playing out your touching love scene would you kindly get your asses off the pavement and get in the fucking car.”

Anders straightened his pants, brushing off his knees. They walked over to the car together. The blond bent down and started to say something. 

“I don’t want to hear it. Just get in the damned car. It’s late and I want to get back home.” Mike’s lips were drawn into a thin line showing his impatience and anger.

Anders opened the door and slid in the back, motioning for the vampire to join him. “Mitchell, this is my brother, Mike. Mike, this is Mitchell, he’s uh…”

“Your boyfriend. Yeah, I got that. I thought you two were going to play hide the salami out there on the street.” His voice cut like a whip.

Anders started to say something but was cut off by Mike’s glare. “Don’t you even… Because of your lover’s quarrel I’m out here in my car instead of being asleep next to Michelle. The next time you two decide to have it out, be decent and yell at each other at home.” 

He pointed a finger at Mitchell. “This asshole seems to think you’re a vampire. Well, why the fuck not, since we’re gods, but if I hear about you even licking someone’s neck I’m going to track you down and our brother Ty’s going to turn you into a batcicle. You got that, fang-boy?”

The Irishman’s eyes were wide. “Yes sir", he said quietly. He looked over at Anders who made an “oh crap” face. 

Mike started the car and then turned back around. “Anders here thinks I have a problem with him being gay. I don’t. When I was young and stupid I did, but times change. What I do have is a problem with you hurting him. If you ever…”

Mitchell smiled wryly and finished his sentence. “I know if I even lick his neck you and Ty will turn me into a batcicle.”

Mike’s eyes crinkled a little at the corners as he repressed a smile. “Yup. And if we get bored with that we know a guy who’s very handy with fireballs.” He pointed the finger again. “And the only thing in Auckland you’re allowed to suck dry is my brother.”

Anders looked stricken, his mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out. Mitchell slowly collapsed against the Kiwi, laughing so hard he squeaked. When he could breathe he looked up. “You know Mike, I think I’m going to like you.”

“Don’t like me too much,” he said as he brought the car to a halt in from of Anders’ apartment. “I don’t want to have to see your prick of a boyfriend any more often than I already do. Good night and get out.”

Mitchell got out of the car and Anders reach for his own door but his brother grabbed his arm. “Are you going be able to handle this alone? I don’t want another surprise phone call in the middle of the night.” 

“I’m a grown up Mike, I will deal with it.” Anders assured him, stepping out of the car. 

Mike was about to drive away when he heard someone knocking on the window. “What does he wants now!” Mike growled but he lowered his window anyway. 

“I just wanted to say…” Anders seemed to hesitate and Mike didn’t have time for that shit. 

“What?!” he nearly shouted with an irritated voice. 

“Thanks for helping me finding him, I couldn’t have done it on my own.” 

For once, Mike was speechless and all sassy repartees had fled from his mind. This day should be renamed as the International Day of Astonishment. Was it that man that had completely transformed his younger brother? Or simply love? He could swear that he could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he had heard a “thank you” coming out of Anders Johnson’s mouth in his entire life, and now this?

“Mike? Why are you still here, looking at me with dead fish eyes, don’t you have a psycho doctor to screw?” Anders asked and Mike snapped out of his thought. 

Mike rolled his eyes, well, his brother haven’t completely changed after all. “Piss off!” he finally said. Anders laughed as Mike drove down the street and disappeared from the lovers’ sight. 

 

 

Anders unlocked the building door and they headed up to their apartment.

“You know,” Anders begins, with a suddenly worried voice, as they went up the stairs, “When Mike is threatening you to beat you to pulp if you licked my neck, he isn’t really talking about actually licking my neck. I love it when you lick it and I don’t want you to stop.” 

Mitchell, stopped in the stairs and turn around to look at his boyfriend, trying to figure out if he was joking. Of course the vampire had understood that Mike was talking about biting Anders, not kissing him in the neck but Anders’ face was deadly serious and he was obviously worried.

Mitchell the climbed the remaining steps without answering, really confused. It was only after when they were finally in the living room of Anders’ flat, looking at each other in the half darkness, that Mitchell understood the fear that was hidden behind this weird statement. 

He carefully approached his lover and engulfed him in his arms, holding him tight. 

“You’re afraid I won’t make love to you anymore, is that it?” 

Anders simply nodded, his face hidden in the rough fabric of Mitchell’s leather jacket. Mitchell tightened his embrace, both sorry for Anders and glad that the god trusted him enough to show him his vulnerability. They stayed this way several minutes, Mitchell still holding Anders against him, confident that at some point, his lover will feel comfortable enough to talk, which he finally did. 

“I’m afraid that because of what I’ve done to you, you won’t trust me anymore. I’m scared it’ll be difficult for you to desire me because I hurt you so much. I’m afraid it’ll never been the same between us.” 

The vampire sighed and put a kiss in Anders’ hair. “No, you’re right Anders, it’s never gonna be the same.” 

Anders made a little sound, something like a broken sob, but the vampire couldn’t see his face because the blond just buried it deeper in his clothes, his fists clenched on the fabric. 

Mitchell carded his fingers in the soft blond hair. “My mother used to say that a relationship is like a piece of wood. When you hurt the other person, it’s like hammering a nail in the wood. You still can remove the nail afterward but the hole is there forever.” 

Anders let another pitiful whimper out, he snuggled closer like he was trying to disappear in his lover’s jacket. Mitchell was convinced that Anders would burst in tears again. The vampire took his chin and forced the blond to look up in his eyes.

“Easy babe,” he whispered soothingly, “we must hammer some nails from time to time if we want to build something together…”

Anders cocked an eyebrow. “Well… that was cheesy,” he commented but there was this tenderness in his voice that couldn’t be misinterpreted. Mitchell smiled. The god rose on tip toes and pressed a sweet trembling kiss on Mitchell’s lips, a kiss full of promises he hoped he would be able to keep. 

Anders broke the kiss first. “Listen, I really like you being here, living with me and…” 

Mitchell silenced him with a gentle peck on the lips. “You’re not forced to say anything, we’ll take it slowly, I promise.” 

“Okay,” the blond god breathed softly in a relieved sigh.

They stayed on each other arms a little while. Suddenly, Mitchell shuddered and groaned painfully. 

“Baby…” Mitchell said in a laborious breath, looking out by the window to the moon that was still there, bright and snarky. “...I’m thirsty, very very thirsty.” 

Anders kissed him again, rubbing his lover’s back soothingly, “It’s okay, I’m here, we’ll sort this out together. I’ll not let you down, not this time, never again.”


End file.
